Chivalry is Definitely Not Dead
by Vaughntronic
Summary: Merlin, as he often does, panics about Arthur discovering his secret(s). It is a good thing that Lancelot is there to help guide him trough one of his more panic-riddled moments. Perhaps Arthur will surprise them. **Artwork by Wil1969**


**AN: For Moonfox**

**AN: I do not own Merlin.**

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><p>Merlin was pacing back and forth in his room, arms gesticulating wildly, running his mouth in circles for what seemed like the 17th time. He tripped over the strap on his bag for the third time, shaking his foot angrily; "Leave off! Leave off!"<p>

Once he freed himself, he kicked the strap away and all the fight drained out of him in one sapping sigh.

When he rounded on Lancelot who had his arms folded calmly across his chest, leaning casually against the wall near the door, he looked desperate. "Lancelot. He _saw_. I know he saw. Didn't he?"

He was back to this question. The one that every other panic attack hinged on. If Arthur had seen, had figured it out, then Merlin did not know what to expect, and the waiting for it was unraveling his frayed nerves.

For Merlin was Merlin, and it was impossible to just sit back and wait and see. Everything about that suggestion when it fell from Lancelot's lips was wrong. How could he just _wait_?

"Merlin." Lancelot pushed off the wall with his shoulder, having watched the slow deterioration of his friend's logic for long enough. "It's not really that big of a deal, surely."

If Lancelot had thought these words were the balm that would soothe Merlin's mind, he had fooled himself. Merlin ruffled instantly and leveled one of his alarmingly serious looks on Lancelot. The kind that started fires. Almost literally.

Lancelot's palms raised. Even though Merlin had not yet voiced a verbal protest, Lancelot could hear it loud and clear. "Alright, alright, so it is not ideal... But come on Merlin, _if_ he saw, and that is a big _if_, he hasn't done anything yet. He may not."

Merlin's eyes narrowed a fraction and he shifted his nervous weight, seemingly considering the Knight's words. On cue, a breath freed itself from his lungs, and his shoulders rolled back down to their appropriate level. He nodded shakily as the welcomed relief flowed over him.

Lancelot smiled. He knew that this was temporary. That his relief would give way to another attack of panic when he got to thinking about it too much, but at least for now he could relax. They both could.

It was still early, and Merlin had not fully dressed to start his day. Lancelot, knowing the condition he had left Merlin in the night before had risen early to check on him. Clearly it was good that he had done.

Merlin had begun scanning his room for his change of clothes that were haphazardly strewn about the floor.

Lancelot watched him carefully. _Really, look at him. Merlin. What could Arthur be upset about? It's not like he had actually done anything -wrong- persay. He had not hurt anyone..._ But Arthur was a stickler for some things, and even though he harbored an unlikely fondness for his servant, even Lancelot was not sure that Arthur would be able to get past this one.

Merlin tugged his sleep shirt over his head and replaced it with the wrinkled red one that he had rescued from the floor.

His hair stood up on its end and he brushed a hand through it, just making it worse.

Lancelot smiled and without warning stepped closer to Merlin, wrapping his warm fingers around the wrist that was now bending and reaching for his pants nearby on the floor.

Merlin, paused and looked up at him as Lancelot guided him back into a standing position. Merlin flushed and his eyes flickered towards the door out to Gaius' chambers.

"If you are truly worried about waiting for the sword to drop, Merlin, why not just tell Arthur?" Lancelot was dangerously close to Merlin's space, and this was obviously wreaking havoc on Merlin's ability to respond coherently.

All Merlin managed to do was pry his eyes off the door and let them slip down to Lancelot's mouth that was curved in a soft, and let's face it, sexy, smile.

Lancelot's index finger was brushing gently against the inside of Merlin's wrist, and it felt like every nerve-ending in Merlin's body was focused on that one spot.

Merlin looked up now into Lancelot's eyes, and whatever it was that kept Merlin nervous about Lancelot's proximity seemed to be shunted away into a far corner of Merlin's mind when the more dominant thoughts of _want_ and _desire_ forced their way forward.

Something about the look on Merlin's face tipped Lancelot off, and it was Lancelot's turn to feel the heat rise in his skin. Merlin had so many faces. He could be fragile and frantic, wringing his hands with worry. He was fast paced and nervous, and when he was like this, it seemed everyone wanted to calm him. He was magnetic.

But then there were times that he was strong and stalwart, and in some ways - especially if you knew about his gifts - terrifying. Lancelot knew of his gifts, and it filled him with pride that he was one of the few that had been treated to Merlin's secret. Even if it had been on accident, Lancelot wanted to guard it with just as much reverence and loyalty as if Merlin had told him of his own free will.

And then there was this face... The one he was directing at Lancelot now. The one that said Merlin was far more than a servant or a warlock. He was a man. Just like any other mundane man (well, if Lancelot was honest, there was nothing mundane about Merlin), but the point is; Merlin needed, wanted, and felt, just like any other man, and it was easy to forget that when Merlin was being the gravitational center of everyone's world.

But right here, Lancelot was reminded, and it was with that last musing, while the two watched each other within a breath's distance, that Lancelot moved in and brushed his lips against Merlin's for the second time in 24 hours.

There was no pause of hesitation from Merlin, no moment of stunning realization. That moment had been last night. This moment was one of utter acceptance and Merlin greeted the presence of the soft lips automatically and moved with them gently, the practiced moves from the night before coming back to him easily.

Lancelot still held Merlin's wrist, and Merlin was content to let it hang there and be held. Something about the presence was grounding and safe. Lancelot appeared to feel the same, but he still shifted his other hand underneath Merlin's arm to press gently against the space in between Merlin's shoulder blades. It was an invitation. He was not bringing Merlin in, he was asking him in, and something about that little consideration summoned a small sigh from Merlin's chest.

He reacted instantly, and stepped further into Lancelot, bring his free hand to weave into the back of the Knight's neck, nestling in the fine ends of his hair. He parted his lips slightly, offering his own invitation and his skin hummed when he felt the gentle brush of Lancelot's tongue against his bottom lip.

Merlin released another small sigh that was trailed closely by a whimper at the shy exploration of his lips. This was not new, they had breached this territory late last night, but there was something about the way Lancelot _asked_ for what he wanted instead of taking it - even though Merlin would gladly give it. It was maddeningly sexy, and likely the only reason Merlin did not release the flood-gates of his passion and dominate their kisses and touches. He reveled in feeling Lancelot's gentlemanly, and wordless, requests.

The whimper that escaped Merlin and fell onto Lancelot's lips, however, seemed to have shaken Lancelot's restrained resolve to slowly explore Merlin. His hands on Merlin's wrist and back tightened noticeably. The idea that he could illicit these small noises from such an amazing man was enough to test his chivalry, and give him the courage to bypass it, just this once, to see what would happen.

He finally released Merlin's wrist, and instead grasped the back of Merlin's neck, pulling his head down gently, though still actively pulling. He parted his lips more and dipped his tongue further into Merlin's mouth, and he felt the servant give way instantly, this time with a low sound of want. And his own want echoed fiercely.

Lancelot's tightened grip and pull on the back of his neck was all Merlin needed to lick into the Knight's mouth, turning their kiss into something entirely different and far more hungry. Their bodies aligned, fingers dug, chins tilted, and defined jaws moved sinuously slow but heated.

Merlin pulled on Lancelot's hip and for the first time Lancelot's breath hitched into a moan. He had been so focused on Merlin that the noise startled them both for a beat and their kiss broke, giving way to shaking breaths and wide lustful eyes latched intently onto one another. Just that one noise from the older man had escalated their desires into new territory, and both men searched each other's gaze for confirmation that they were not alone in their lust.

Neither was disappointed by what they found.

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><p>"<em>MER<em>LIN!" The unmistakably pissed off tone of their Prince sliced through their moment like a sharpened sword and they parted instantly, hands dropping from skin, and pupil-filled eyes giving way to withering terror. At least on Merlin's part. Though, Lancelot did look nervous.

Merlin heard the booted footfalls of Arthur coming nearer to his door, and he backed up a pace in reaction. He waited for the Prince to burst through the doors and unleash some form of rage upon him, but the door never swung open. Instead a forceful _pound, pound, pound_ sounded against the wood and the Prince's voice - pushed through the cracks in the door.

"Merlin," Arthur's voice was dangerous. "You're late."

Merlin gulped and stammered out an "I'm sorry, Sire. I will be right there. I just need... One more minute."

There was a pause and then; "You can snog Lancelot later. He has training. You have chores. Now get OUT here."

Merlin could swear that his jaw fully unhinged, fell to the floor and escaped somewhere under the bed. He gaped for at least eight long seconds, looking to Lancelot for some sort of... Sign? Comfort? What the hell do I say?

Lancelot looked immensely tense, though his only response was to shrug and make a nodding gesture towards the door as if to say '_mine as well'_.

Merlin closed his eyes and swallowed. "So you saw us. You know." It was not a question.

"I do now." Came Arthur's response, which if Merlin did not know better, sounded slightly amused.

Merlin spluttered and in his curiosity to discover exactly what the prince was playing at, crossed the room and flung open the door.

Arthur, who had been leaning in towards the door, looking very voyeuristic and un-princely, shot up into a more upright and imperious position, smoothing his face into something less '_teenager discovers secret love tryst'_ and more into '_stuck-up royalty_'.

"What do you mean 'you do now'?" Merlin glared with one eyebrow raised.

Arthur seemed to be playing with his gloves in a 'matter-of-fact' way. "Well, they way you two were shuffling around each other like a couple of girls when I saw you last night... It was pretty obvious you had been up to something."

"So you didn't see?" Merlin questioned.

The prince shook his head and could not help the cheeky smile that played on his lips. "Nope."

"So you guessed." Again, it was not a question. Merlin's face was stony.

"An educated guess." Arthur corrected.

"And I just confirmed it." Merlin stated, his lips now annoyed themselves into a line of self-loathing.

Arthur nodded. "Yep."

"Prat."

"Girl."

Merlin made to retreat into his room and slam the door in Arthur's face, but there was suddenly a large boot in the frame.

"You're still late. Put your skirts on and get to work." He looked past Merlin at Lancelot who had been watching the exchange scarcely able to contain his amusement. "Armor up. If you are not on the field in ten, you do not want to know what I will have laid out for you." His face was serious now, and though Merlin glared at him for his repeated references to his imagined femininity, he nodded. As did Lancelot.

The prince turned on his heel and left - and if the two men could have seen his face, they would have been treated to a wide and pompous grin.

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><p>When Merlin had closed the door again to his chamber, he collapsed against it.<p>

"And you were worried." Lancelot said stepping closer to Merlin now, unfolding his arms resting his hands on the man's hips.

Merlin let loose a shaky laugh. "Well, you never know with Arthur."

Lancelot nodded. "Feel better?" He crowded into Merlin's space.

Merlin nodded, again focusing on Lancelot's lips as he did so.

"Now you can go back to just panicking about your magic." Lancelot did not give Merlin time to respond before again covering Merlin's mouth with his own.

Merlin spared a fleeting thought for the ever-present magic secret that ate at his insides, but the thought was soon whisked away by a scratchy chin and a soft pressing tongue. At least he had this.

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><p><strong>AN: Anyone catch the nod to Sword in the Stone?<strong>


End file.
